


Sie leben hinterm Sonnenschein

by moon_waves



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sehnsucht Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_waves/pseuds/moon_waves
Summary: One morning where their bandmates hadblissfullyabandoned the tourbus, Paul and Schneider tried to take advantage of their private time together.
Relationships: Paul Landers/Christoph Schneider | Doom
Comments: 13
Kudos: 20





	Sie leben hinterm Sonnenschein

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arrestzelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrestzelle/gifts).



> Brig, I hope you will enjoy this little piece of tourbus action ;) <3 
> 
> Many thanks to GwendolenFairfax for having beta-read this story, all remaining mistakes are mine!

“Is your foot stuck in the toilet?”

“What? No! Schneider, what the hell seriously?!”

“You’ve been in there for hours –”

“Thirty minutes, you big drama queen.”

“– and I heard some weird noise, muffled swearing and you still haven’t come out. I’m wondering, that’s all.”

“And the only explanation you come up with is that my foot got stuck in the toilet?” Paul asked, incredulously.

He _heard_ Schneider shrug on the other side of the door.

“Weirder things have happened,” the drummer said, unflappably. “Are you coming out or what?”

“Can’t a man enjoy his private time alone?” Paul asked, making no effort to hide the annoyance in his voice.

“Private time?”

“Yes.”

“You sure you don’t need a hand with that?”

“A hand with… Schneider, no! Real private time. If I wanted a hand job, I would ask, I promise.”

“Because we have the tourbus to ourselves _now_ , in case I need to remind you.”

“There is no need for a reminder. Give me five more minutes, would you?”

A huff, and then:

“Fine. But no more!”

“Yes, yes,” Paul said impatiently before turning his attention back onto the small mirror hovering above the minuscule sink.

They had all grumbled when they had seen the minuscule arrangements of the toilet-slash-shower in the tourbus – seriously, one could get a shower while taking a dump at the same time – but it was better than nothing. At least they _could_ take a shower while the bus was driving across kilometers and kilometers of empty highways, which was better than the first tourbus they had had before.

Still, there wasn’t much space in there for a guy trying to dress to impress his lover, and he felt his shoulders sag a little in front of the image the mirror was sending back to him. He had done his best – and stole some of Schneider’s hair product before locking himself inside the bathroom – but it still wasn’t great.

Oh well. It would have to do. He tugged at the collar of his black shirt, scoffing at the crease that seemed to be imprinted on the tissue, checked that the buttons were in the right order, breathed deeply to make sure he hadn’t put on too much perfume, and raised a hand to run it through his hair before stopping himself at the last second. It wouldn’t do to just ruin fifteen minutes of work with a nervous tic!

Frowning a little, he quickly took hold of his toilet kit, mindful of Schneider’s hair product hidden within, and left the bathroom, quickly scanning his surroundings. He relaxed a little when he realized Schneider had moved back to the front of the bus – where one could sunbathe on the couch, basking in the light coming from the windows that covered half of the wall – and took his time dropping his kit onto his bag again, before putting back the hair product where it belonged. There was an abandoned book on Schneider’s bed and he briefly looked at the cover before ignoring it. One day, he would try to understand why the drummer was so interested in the biographies of obscure historical figures, but for now, he had more pressing matters to attend.

As he expected, Schneider was lounging on the couch, only wearing loose Bermuda shorts and nothing else. Smiling at the sight, he made his way quietly on the corridor before launching himself onto the drummer, giggling at the noise of surprise that escaped him.

“You’re terrible,” Schneider protested before rearranging their limbs together.

“My knee didn’t hit a wrong spot, did it?” Paul asked nonchalantly before raising his head to look at him, eyelashes fluttering. “You would have been _loud_ , otherwise.”

“It’s fine,” Schneider grumbled.

“Because I remember very well the very _girly_ shrill you let out when your ex used too many teeth, when you tried to get a quickie backstage before the show last year –”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Schneider insisted, pinching his butt none too gently before looking away, faint pink covering his cheeks.

Smiling triumphally, Paul moved a little from over him to smack a wet kiss on his forehead, giggling again at the sound of disgust that escaped the drummer. It was so easy to rile him up, he could never get tired of it – especially when Schneider lost his cool and decided to tie him up somewhere for retaliation and –

Well.

Good times overall.

“I can’t believe you spent so much time in there,” Schneider said as soon as they were comfortably installed, the guitarist stretched on top of him, mindful of the position of his legs. “Were you trying to write a poem or something?”

“No, I’m leaving that to Till,” Paul immediately said with a little shrug. “Have you seen his notebooks? I think he finished one in the first two weeks of the tour.”

“Apparently he is surrounded by inspiration,” Schneider dead-panned.

Their eyes met. Paul wriggled his eyebrows and they burst into a fit of giggles. Yeah, Till was surrounded by inspiration alright – all the charming young ladies hanging around during the after parties, and afterwards. Of course, it wasn’t his only source of inspiration: more than once, each and every one of them had walked on him while he was contemplating the stars, a notebook in his lap and a pen in his hand, but it clearly wasn’t as entertaining to make fun of him for being inspired by the simple beauty of nature’s miracles.

“Hey, at least he is only enjoying the scenery, this time,” Paul finally remarked once they had caught their breath. “And he dragged Flake with him, too.”

“We’re on a parking surrounded by wheat fields, what kind of scenery do you even want to check out?” Schneider asked, one eyebrow raised.

One of his hands was slowly but steadily making its way down the line of Paul’s back, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it. It was nice, the feeling of warm, calloused finger drawing light lines on his skin, hidden under the soft tissue of his shirt.

He shrugged a little.

“Apparently he spotted a stream on the way,” he said nonchalantly before letting his head rest on Schneider’s collarbone.

He delicately moved one hand on the drummer’s waist, careful to be gentle about it – Schneider was ticklish enough as it was, and he didn’t want to get kicked for something he wouldn’t have done on purpose.

There was a grunt over his head followed by Schneider relaxing underneath him as Paul started drawing forms on the exposed skin beneath. Oh, he was tempted to do a bit more than just running his fingers around, but – later. They had time, for once.

“That couch is more comfortable than I expected it to be,” Schneider remarked in a slow voice, hand finally stopping by the small of Paul’s back.

Paul hummed before wriggling a little, half-closing his eyes.

“Is it really?”

“Mmh. I think it would do perfectly well, if I wanted to pin you down and make you forget your name.”

Paul almost choked on his own saliva, pinched the tender skin of Schneider’s waist when the drummer laughed at his reaction and coughed a bit, trying to regain his composure before speaking again.

“You sure about that?” he asked in a voice that was aiming for nonchalance, looking at Schneider from under his eyelashes. “Because we can use one of the bunk beds, otherwise. We know for sure the mattress is fine.”

“You almost hit your head against the frame last time,” Schneider pointed out before brushing his hair away with one hand, clearly not buying his façade one second.

“Almost. I did _not_ hit himself,” Paul protested weakly, cheeks still red but feeling slightly more assured now that he could dispute Schneider’s claim. “And that proved my point: there’s enough space between the beds for us. Ollie has to be able to sit down comfortably, after all.”

“Thanks god that bus was customized for us,” Schneider said with a low laugh that turned into a rumble in Paul’s ear.

They snorted before calming down again. Of course, they all encountered troubles when sleeping on their bunk beds, especially if one was inclined to do some _gymnastics_ without alerting his bandmates about that particular fact, but… Poor Ollie was bearing the worst of their accommodations on tour – beds too small being the biggest problem – but at least their management had been sympathetic enough to his plight to make sure he would sleep relatively comfortably, this time.

And they had more stops planned at hotels, too – sadly, just not on that leg of the tour, which meant they had to be particularly sneaky if they wanted to do something a little _risky_.

Basking in the warmth of the sunny morning and gently lulled to relaxation by firm drummer’s hands massaging his back, Paul yawned a little before wriggling again, making sure he was comfortably curled up on top of Schneider. It felt so nice, being able to sunbathe like that – and he had no regrets about not going out at all.

Especially as he felt the hand on his back moving away until it was resting on top of his ass.

“We’re a bit exposed,” Schneider mumbled into his hair.

“Nobody can see us from outside,” Paul said in return, fingers moving over the drummer’s chest. “We checked, remember? Besides, we’re literally the only people parked there.”

“That we know of.”

“Did you hear a car coming while I was busy?”

There was a huff of warm air against his ear and he smiled privately. He could understand Schneider’s reluctance – neither of them was big on exhibitionism – but they had carefully made their plans beforehand. The only problem they could encounter was the early return of one of their bandmates – something that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Hopefully.

“See? No problem,” he mumbled when Schneider didn’t answer before opening his eyes again and turning his head away, suddenly hit by the violent need for a cigarette.

He shifted a little, looking around for an abandoned pack before grumbling a little. Schneider watched him with a raised eyebrow, looking subtly baffled by his behavior.

“Am I boring you?” he asked, a little incredulous.

“Not at all,” Paul answered before settling down again – and then yelping as a hand firmly grabbed his ass. “Schneider!”

“That’s me.”

“I noticed,” Paul grumbled, and then pressing down on him.

“You’re a terrible tease,” Schneider muttered in his ear.

“I’m not!” Paul protested before poking him around the ribs.

For once! All he wanted was to lie in the sun on top of Schneider and to have a cigarette – a perfect plan for relaxation before moving onto warmer activities.

“You’re so mean to me,” he went on with a pout, staring at Schneider with disgruntled eyes.

The drummer watched him doubtfully before rolling his eyes and patting his butt, and then moving his other hand over Paul’s shoulders to give him a little massage. Slightly vexed, the guitarist didn’t say anything before waiting for the drummer’s fingers to start working their magic on him.

Okay, he could be easily reduced to a silent puddle on the ground by a firm massage – oh yeah, it felt so good to have the knot in his left shoulder being worked on – but he wasn’t going to let anyone else be aware of that little fact. He liked to keep his secrets, thank you very much, and Schneider’s fingers working him to a state of complete relaxation was part of them.

“We would be more comfortable on a bed,” Schneider finally said after a time, nose brushing against his ear.

“I’m not moving,” Paul protested, voice muffled against Schneider’s skin. “It’s nice there – warm and soft and firm.”

“Soft and firm at the same time?”

“Mmh. It’s nice. Stop making fun of me and keep massaging me instead.”

Schneider chuckled against his ear before obeying, calloused hands working on the knots on his shoulders. Sighing a little, Paul let his head fall to the side, feeling himself relaxing even more under the firm touch. It felt _good_ , truly, and he was quite happy to remain there for the next couple of hours, with nothing to do but let himself being pampered by Schneider.

Not that he would ever admit to it – he had _his_ reputation to maintain, after all! The reputation of a bad-ass guitarist who couldn’t be swayed by a little massage, _unlike someone else_.

“I thought you had other plans for the morning,” Schneider said in his ear a bit later, the movements on his shoulders stopping.

Paul raised bleary eyes to him, the fuzzy and foggy feeling in his mind slowing the fast pace of his thoughts for one moment – and damn, he must have been more tired than he thought if a massage could already get him to doze off.

Plans. In the morning. With Schneider.

Their plans! They had the tourbus for themselves!

“Other plans,” he repeated before suddenly waking up in front of the amused expression on Schneider’s face. “Oh! Yes. Yes, I did.”

Paul suddenly rose up before moving until he was straddling the drummer, who started laughing at his enthusiasm while raising a hand to his waist to help him keep his balance. He was very awake all of a sudden, heart beating fast because of the intense shoot of adrenaline running down his spine and the arousal pooling deep in his stomach at the view of Schneider lying under him. A malicious smile started growing on his face and he quickly took his shirt off in one deft move before throwing it away and running a hand through his hair. He didn’t miss the way Schneider’s eyes darkened at the sight, his hand holding a bit tighter on his ass, and he grinded down on the drummer’s lap, not missing the way another part of him was getting very interested as well.

“ _Paul_ ,” Schneider said with an amused tone, rolling his hips briefly before becoming still again.

“Yup, that’s me,” Paul said with a little laugh before bending down to kiss the drummer briefly, just a teasing touch lips against lips.

He smirked as a blush covered Schneider’s cheeks. It wasn’t often he could get the upper hand over the drummer without him taking back the reins after a few minutes – had been working on it for more than a decade, after all – which made it even more rewarding when he managed to do so. Encouraged by his success, he wriggled again, giving a pointed look to Schneider as he felt a hard line against his thigh.

“You were asking for a little action just for your own benefit, weren’t you?” he asked teasingly, smirk growing as Schneider turned red.

“I was _not_ ,” the drummer protested weakly before pinching his ass in retaliation.

Paul yelped before swatting his hand away, glaring as the drummer looked at him with a smug expression, obviously delighted to have gained the upper hand again.

“You’re the one who jumped me, when I was just lying around,” Schneider went on, an innocent expression painted over his face. “I was just enjoying the sun when you threw yourself at me and –”

A little _humpf_ of protest escaped him as Paul bent down again to kiss him, more forcefully this time.

He smirked as he plastered himself against the drummer, grinding a little against to keep his attention divided – licking at his mouth to get him to open it before leading the kiss. His hands were holding tightly onto Schneider’s shoulders, thumbs rubbing at the warm skin, enjoying the way Schneider was vibrating slightly against him. Even the hand that was holding firmly onto his butt didn’t manage to make him lose his focus – it was too rare that he got to take the lead and set the pace of their kiss. He nibbled at Schneider’s lower lip, swallowed the moan that came out, wriggled a little as Schneider’s hand pressed down even more on his ass and finally only broke the kiss when he was desperate for air, moving away until he was staring down at Schneider.

The position was unusual for him, but he was quite enjoying it – especially with Schneider looking up to him, cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen.

Yes, this was a very good look on him.

“I quite like it there,” Paul announced proudly, a giggle escaping him as Schneider snorted at his words.

“I’m sure you do,” the drummer said, amused, before tugging on his pants to get him to bend down again.

The kiss was calmer this time, the two of them taking the time to enjoy one another rather than battle passionately. Paul’s hands moved to cup Schneider’s cheeks, while the drummer used both hands to hold him by the waist, making sure he wouldn’t fall down from the couch. They kissed leisurely, slowly but surely losing themselves into the familiar sensations, arousal coursing through their veins.

Paul inched closer, whining a little against Schneider’s lips as a familiar hand came to cover his ass again, the two of them rubbing against each other. The fact that they were starting to move onto the main plan of the morning was slowly appearing in his mind, sending a thrill of anticipation down his spine, when the door of the tourbus suddenly violently opened, followed by loud, cheerful voices.

Paul moved into a sitting position so fast he almost fell down, only caught by Schneider’s quick reflexes, the two of them turning their heads to look at the newcomers with a desolate expression on their faces.

Ollie stopped right on his tracks when he spotted them.

“Oh!” he said with a little squeak of surprise. “Oh, sorry guys, we didn’t know you were –”

“Busy,” Richard pipped up from behind him, silver hair swinging wildly around his face. “That’s too bad. Uh, we’re getting out again?”

“Please, and thank you,” Schneider said through clenched teeth, Paul crossing his arms on top of him, annoyance clearly visible on his face.

“Sorry,” Ollie said again, a little sheepish, and the door closed behind them, leaving them in blissful silence.

Paul rolled his eyes before looking at Schneider, who sighed loudly.

“They’re terrible,” he grumbled quietly before shaking his head a little. “And I guess we should hurry, now?”

“Like hell we will,” Paul grumbled before relaxing his arms, placing his hands on Schneider’s shoulders again. “They can act as watchdogs for all I care. The tourbus is supposed to be ours until lunch!”

Schneider giggled at his words before covering his mouth with his hand and then tugging Paul down again for another kiss.

Pushing away from his mind all thoughts of interruption, Paul went down willingly, pressing his lips against Schneider’s, smiling when the drummer deepened the kiss almost immediately. They kissed lazily for a moment before Paul rose up again, squirming a little before sitting more comfortably on Schneider’s lap, a teasing smile on his face. His lover looked up to him with a dazed expression on his face, lips red and swollen, and Paul’s smile grew bigger at the sight before he pressed down against him.

Schneider gasped at the sudden pressure and Paul chuckled at the hardness he could feel.

“Now, where were we again?” he said in a low voice, almost purring, looking at the blush covering Schneider’s cheeks.

Yes, they definitely wouldn’t let themselves being interrupted again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, please consider leaving a comment.


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